


Lion Heart

by CharleyFoxtrot



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Saving kids and helping people: the Avengers business, Tasha is not a monster, best brOTP to brOTP, child abuse cw, mention of potential sexual abuse against a minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4949041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharleyFoxtrot/pseuds/CharleyFoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From charity photo ops to saving a little girl to saving all of the kids in New York City. Just another day in the life of Captain America and the Black Widow. Go team!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lion Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [capncarol](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=capncarol).



> Pre-Age of Ultron because fuck that movie, but borrows from comic canon and all other Marvel stuff very liberally.
> 
> Were this an MPAA thing I'd rate this PG-13 for occasional bad language and a vague mention of potential sexual abuse.
> 
> Much thanks to [Alyssa](http://alyssabethancourt.tumblr.com/) for a brief beta-read. You're the best. Also thanks to Cally, who doesn't have a goddamn tumblr to link to, who helped me develop the idea.
> 
> This is a gift fic for [capncarol](http://capncarol.tumblr.com/), who has donated to [help support my mom](https://www.crowdrise.com/gonzosmemorialfund) after my dad died two months ago (sorry for the blatant self-promotion but we're all _really_ broke rn), and who has also [helped me in the past](https://www.paypal.com/us/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_flow&SESSION=eW4ngn_TJ2oTcXvYfT2JV3H9tdfGSCsiopISHICM8H9peUZ3Ehx2P5_k5qe&dispatch=5885d80a13c0db1f8e263663d3faee8d64ad11bbf4d2a5a1a0d303a50933f9b2). It's long-overdue. Thank you, dude. So much. I don't think you know how much I appreciate it.
> 
> As always, you can find me at [disease-danger-darkness-silence.tumblr](http://disease-danger-darkness-silence.tumblr.com/).

The Howard and Maria Stark Foundation had its fingers in a lot of pies, but it was all for a good cause.

That’s what Steve kept telling himself to get through it all, anyway. He internally winced again, before putting his arm around a middle-aged man like they were buddies, and looked at the camera, flashing his best “Captain America” smile.

He couldn’t complain, really. No one knew Thor was back on Earth (he was there with Jane and Darcy; clad in a suit with fake glasses perched on his nose and his hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, _Steve_ could barely recognize him), and Bruce couldn’t exactly sell photo ops as the Hulk, and really, even Tony and Rhodey were doing their part, posing in their armor for kids and adults alike to purchase photo ops with.

And it was for a good cause. Really. St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital had been reeling since Robin Williams had succumbed to depression; the comedian had been one of their highest supporters, and with no spokesperson their funds were slowly sliding downward. Once upon a time, Steve would have been in their care, so he _couldn’t_ say no when Pepper approached him about the gala.

See, the thing about the Foundation is that they occasionally threw big high to-do galas, but they also liked to try and make the majority of them affordable for those of low income; that way, even inner-city kids could mingle with celebrities. Everyone underwent a security check, of course, but for the most part the gala itself wasn’t what raised much-needed funds. Things like charity auctions, a chance to wear an Iron Man gauntlet or talk to JARVIS, and raffling off the newest in Stark Tech was what brought in most of their money.

But then someone -- probably Tony -- got the idea that photo ops could be a good way for both the rich and the poor to contribute, especially if they got the Avengers there -- people everyone wanted a moment in the limelight with. Kids’ ops were only twenty dollars (and if the Avengers themselves occasionally spotted a kid with no cash and paid the twenty dollars themselves, no one was going to complain); adults were fifty, and if you wanted more than one person in the picture you got a group discount. The photographers were donating their time and the digital copies of the pictures; hardcopies were available for pickup on-site for the cost of materials, which Stark Industries was covering.

And Steve was doing it, willingly; he was in-uniform now, but later after the auction break and the speeches, he’d be doing more in casual wear. Tasha, Clint, Tony, Rhodey, and Sam were all in their uniforms as well, and Bruce would be joining them later for the casual-wear portion. Pepper came by about an hour into it and let him know they’d already raised about fifty grand just from photo op sales, with more projected. This didn’t include the auction (which had some interesting stuff up for auction, ranging from bicycles and mp3 players all the way up to the latest Stark Tech holo-projection computer) and raffle (which contained many of the same things, but tickets were a very affordable $5 apiece, with a “ _suggested_ ” extra donation for those who could afford it).

Really, Steve had to begrudgingly admit that the Foundation, and Tony in particular, had made every effort to ensure that the impoverished of New York could still participate in the fundraising effort. Still, he had cash on-hand, as well as his checkbook, because he could see some of the kids eyeing the items on display, and the lines for photo ops, and he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone not having even five dollars to spend on a raffle ticket.

He was pretty sure the others were similarly equipped.

It was nearing a break -- they got one every hour and a half, fifteen minutes to retire and get a drink and relax a bit -- when the last person in this batch walked up. It was a little boy, probably no more than seven or eight years old, and Steve obligingly sat down on the chair provided so the kid could hop on his lap.

He looked sullen, though, and Steve had to ask.

“Why the long face?” he muttered, smiling for the camera. The boy also obligingly smiled, a large fake smile that Steve got the idea he’d been practicing for a while. It was depressing as hell.

“I wanted to take a picture with _Black Widow_ ,” the kid said, angrily, as he climbed out of Steve’s lap. “But Mom said she’s an assassin and shouldn’t be trusted with kids.” He looked as close to tears as a kid could be without outright throwing a temper tantrum.

Steve felt his face go blank. “Where’s your mom?” he asked, quietly. The kid pointed her out as the photographer began covering up his equipment for the break. She was in the middle of the room, dressed to the nines; rich, then, and sending her kid off to be photographed with the paragon of American virtue so she could have time to mingle. Steve was, in a word, _angry_.

“Look,” Steve said, quietly, kneeling next to the kid. “We’ll be back in a few; if you tell your mom you want money to get one of the ops with me in street clothes, do you think she’d go for it?”

“Probably,” he said, frowning. “Why?”

“Because,” Steve said, smiling. “I’m gonna get you that Black Widow op.”

The kid’s face burst into a radiant grin and he threw his arms around Steve. There was a chorus of “awwwwww”s around the photo op area.

“Just get the money, and I’ll send someone for you if you wait over there,” Steve whispered, gesturing to the photo entry area.

“Thank you!” the kid said, skipping off excitedly.

 

**~~~~~~**

 

The break room wasn’t exactly opulent, but Tony didn’t half-ass things either, so there was a nice selection of water bottles, sodas, and low-alcohol beers. Steve wasn’t sure how, but Pepper had managed to talk Tony out of a wet bar.

Thor was there, gently teasing his compatriots for having to sit like sideshow attractions, along with Jane and Darcy (who’d taken to eyeing Steve in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable). Steve singled him out and drew him along by the elbow to a quiet corner of the room.

“Is there a problem, friend?” Thor asked, frowning seriously.

“Kind of,” Steve said. “You remember what I said about how Tasha dumped all of that intel on the ‘Net?”

“Yes,” Thor said, nodding.

“Well, the world knows what she did before she became a SHIELD agent, and what she did as a SHIELD agent, and apparently some of the parents think she’s unsafe to be around kids.”

Thor’s face had taken on a thunderous quality and Steve wondered if he should have maybe talked to Pepper directly. He didn’t want the gala to get rained out, after all.

“But I’ve got an idea,” Steve said. “And since you’re kind of here undercover, you’re perfect for the job.”

“What job?” Jane asked, ducking into the conversation. Darcy, apparently, was now deep in a discussion with Bruce about politics, and while Bruce looked a little uncomfortable, he hadn’t hulked out so Steve dismissed it from his mind.

Thor briefly caught Jane up on the situation and Jane got a look of fierce determination on her face. “We’re in,” she said. “What do we need to do?”

Steve handed her a wad of cash; his bank account was pretty well-set after 70 years of interest, so he’d brought a lot, thinking to take part in the charity auction and also help some of the kids who couldn’t do the same. He’d have to stop by the ATM before the end of break to replenish his cache of cash -- and he _also_ needed to never let Clint know that he’d ever thought of that phrase because the archer wouldn’t let that pun drop for _years_.

“Rotating guard,” he said. “I’m the one parents are most likely to send their kids to; wholesome image and all that.”

“I wonder where they get this idea,” Thor said, thoughtfully. Steve laughed, but didn’t elaborate.

“Just, stick near my area. I’ll signal you if a kid needs a pickup to be diverted to Nat’s line. If they have money, let them pay, but if they don’t, take it out of that.” And he gestured to the crumpled wad of twenties he’d shoved into Jane’s hands. He glanced at Tasha, who was huddled close to Clint in the opposite corner of the room. “And whatever you do, don’t let Tasha know what we’re doing.”

 

**~~~~~~**

 

Tasha, of course, found out, and the next break was the big one for the auction, raffle, and speeches. They were attending that in their uniforms, so it was a quick five minutes to drink, freshen up, and appear at their table. Still, somehow, Tasha found the time to corner Steve.

“What did you _do_ ,” she asked, not even making it a question. Then she grimaced. “I was all set to be out of there before _any_ of you guys, and suddenly there’s like a _deluge_ of kids wanting Black Widow ops. What gives? I _know_ it was you, I saw you talking to Thor and Jane, and they’re the ones bringing them to my line.”

Steve sighed, but Tasha was his friend, so he faithfully recounted the story. She froze in place while he told it, and he could tell that even though she wasn’t emoting, she was warring with the conflicting emotions of anger, guilt, and hurt. They’d been friends long enough that he knew when she was trying to parse emotions.

“Hey,” Steve said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Those assholes are _wrong_. That shit’s in your past. That’s why we’re doing this -- these kids look up to you, and they deserve a picture with their _hero_.”

She smiled at him, but it was a sort of fake smile, and almost every bit as heartbreaking as the one the kid who’d started this had given him.

 

**~~~~~~**

 

The auction went well, with Steve securing a brand-new bicycle for a whopping three grand (he wrote a check) and making a big display of giving it to one of the poorer kids in the room, and the press noted that the Avengers seemed to be hanging around the raffle area with a lot of inner-city kids and adults prior to the raffle. No one, however, could call foul play because an impartial judge drew the tickets, and fact that most of the tickets in the bucket happened to belong to low-class people was just pure happenstance, after all.

Finally, Steve and everyone else got to change into regular clothes, but it was back to the photo ops. At least now he was just posing as Steve Rogers, rather than Captain America; it was kind of a relief. He’d been made a caricature of himself during his years on the ice, and being able to be “just Steve” in public was relaxing.

There was a startlingly large amount of people who wanted photo ops with Bruce Banner, which seemed to surprise the hell out of the scientist, but their first break led to the rest of the Avengers conferring and discovering the same thing -- no one wanted their kids to have pictures with Natalia Romanova, regardless of whether she was in her Black Widow gear. It was mostly creepy older men and dudebros with neckbeards, and Steve felt for her -- he couldn’t _imagine_ the kind of comments she’d been enduring all night, but she’d not complained, not even once.

“This is like, _really_ unfair,” Tony bitched, tossing back half a beer in one gulp. “Like Tasha’s gonna kill a kid when _I’m_ in the room and a fair target, like, have any of these people even thought this through? _Logic_. I swear to God they need to start teaching critical thinking in schools.”

Steve chuckled and then said, “Well, I had a system set up before --”

Which led to each of the Avengers, Tasha included, pitching in to help fund photo ops for kids who wanted a picture with Black Widow -- in uniform or out. Tasha eyed Steve for a long moment before she agreed to the plan, but Thor and Jane were there, and Darcy agreed to help facilitate too, so now they had an official -- among them, anyway -- system to deal with this.

Tasha got an awful lot of photo ops that night, and when the pervs started to recognize they were surrounded by kids, the lewd comments started dropping off too, so that, at least, they could be thankful for.

 

**~~~~~~**

 

When photo ops wrapped up for the night, they all changed into their evening wear and met in the break room -- there was still another hour and a half of the gala, with items people could outright purchase and then the final amount collected to be announced and presented to the St. Jude’s representative who was on-site. However, Tasha had a fiery look to her eyes and she pulled Steve to the side.

“There’s a little girl,” she said, voice low. “Brown hair, caucasian, name of Talia Edwards, lower-middle class. She’s being abused.”

“How do you know?” Steve asked, spine straightening.

“Bruises. Shyness. Scared overall. Spooked. Just _trust_ me, I know what an abused little girl looks like. I don’t know if it’s sexual or just physical, but she’s here with her dad and he’s apparently the abuser, from the way she acted around him.” Her eyes darted around. “Anything we can do?”

“ _Legally_ , no,” Steve said, glancing around the room as well. “But we can deal with it _privately_.”

Tasha smiled, and it was a terrifying smile -- the kind of smile she made when she was about to strike. Steve was actually a little scared, superhuman or not.

 

**~~~~~~**

 

Tony wasn’t told, because abused kids were a touchy subject with him, and they didn’t involve Thor either because he’d go on a rampage and challenge the girl’s father to a duel and out himself. Tasha made an executive decision not to include Bruce, because she was worried he’d hulk out if he was aware.

That left a core group of Darcy (Jane was told and offered to distract Thor), Tasha, Clint, Steve, Rhodey, and Sam. Pepper got involved, as well, because she spotted them plotting, and she conveniently found someone that Tony and Bruce just _had_ to talk to.

Rhodey, being a current service member, had a handgun, and had been displaying it prominently most of the evening as a deterrent. Everyone else had weapons as well -- even Darcy had her taser -- but they were well-hidden; the goal wasn’t to take the father _out_ , just to scare him into compliance. Which meant the weapons would need to make an appearance at some point. Which meant --

“We need a reason to attack someone,” Tasha said.

“Yeah, we do,” Steve agreed. The two of them had the most tactical training and had taken over the planning. There was still an hour left of the gala, and word was it might go a bit longer because dinner still hadn’t quite been served, just drinks and hors d'oeuvres, so they had some time, but not a lot of it.

“So I’m not normally one to invite trouble,” Darcy proposed, “But I heard a rumor that Dr. Doom was back ‘Stateside. He usually tussles with the Fantastic Four, but he’s got a grudge against you guys ever since you took out his latest prototype downtown.”

“How the hell do you know so much about Doom’s movements?” Clint asked, curious.

“There are message boards,” Darcy replied.

“Now _that’s_ an idea,” Tasha said, approvingly. “His stuff is so _easy_ to take out.”

“But it could lead to hurt civilians,” Steve pointed out. “We need someone who isn’t truly a threat but _appears_ to be one.” He paused and then sighed. “There’s one person we could call who’d do it for an abused kid. But I don’t like it very much.”

They were quiet for a second before Tasha sighed and said, “Fine, I’ll call him, but I really _hate_ that guy.”

“He’ll want immunity,” Steve protested.

“He won’t get it,” Tasha said, glaring. “But I’ll promise an extra five minutes before we call Coulson’s team in. He’ll get to make a big Hydra appearance and let everyone know they’re still active -- which serves us well, too, because people are getting too complacent -- and he’ll still probably get captured because Skye and Melinda are _that_ good.”

“Should we call Hill?” Rhodey asked. Steve thought about it for a second and then shook her head.

“She’ll just want to off the guy, and I can’t say I blame her, but we need to actually fight him and make ourselves look like a threat.”

With that, Tasha nodded and grimly went to call the one person she wanted least to converse with on the planet -- Grant Ward.

 

**~~~~~~**

 

It went without a hitch. Ward and a small, ragtag group of Hydra supporters burst into the gala, proclaiming themselves Hydra and spouting shit about “cut off one head and two appear in its place.” The Avengers, sans Tony and Bruce, who’d been lured upstairs to the science department of Avengers Tower, and sans Thor, because no one knew he was there -- Steve saw Jane whispering frantically in his ear -- took care of the problem swiftly. Two of the Hydra personnel were captured, bloody and beaten (mostly by Tasha and Steve), but Ward and most of his lackeys escaped. Exactly five minutes later, Tasha called Melinda May and let her know what had gone down, and gave her the transponder signal that she’d managed to attach to Ward prior to his escape. They’d be taken down in a matter of minutes.

The FBI showed up and took custody of the Hydra operatives, and then everything was cleaned up and the Gala continued as planned. The whole thing took maybe thirty minutes.

So now they were officially a threat; people knew that Black Widow hid stilettos in her stilettos, that Captain America usually had his shield on or near him, that even without their super-suits Colonel Rhodes and Sam Wilson were both deadly; that Clint kept a collapsible bow and arrow set tucked into his boot; that even little Darcy could take a Hydra agent down with her taser. (She’d been the one to capture one of the operatives. It was good, sometimes, to be underestimated.)

A job well done. Tasha and Steve high-fived each other; the press seemed to _love_ that, because cameras were clicking from the moment they approached each other.

Then dinner was served, and then there was mingling while the final tally was added together. This was when they struck.

The whole group of them subtly surrounded the little girl, Talia Edwards. Up close, Steve could see the signs of abuse, plain as day. Suddenly she turned, and it was show time.

“Captain America!” she gasped. She looked about ten years old, and he could see a fresh bruise where someone had grabbed her angrily by the arm, probably within the last two hours. He smiled and crouched down to her level.

“Hey there,” he said, holding out his hand. She flinched but then reached out to shake it. “Talia, right? Talia Edwards?”

At this, he looked up at Talia’s father, who’d gone pale.

“That’s me! How did you know who I was?” she asked.

“Well, my best friend -- Black Widow -- she said she met you and she couldn’t stop talking about you,” Steve said, eyes still on the father. “So of course I had to come introduce myself. How are you, Talia?”

“I’m -- I’m okay,” Talia stuttered, flustered at the attention and the question. Her grin drooped slightly as she glanced up at her father.

“Good to hear it,” Steve said. He kept his eyes on her dad, who had suddenly come to the startling realization that he was surrounded by Avengers. Tasha sidled up and squatted next to him, which was impressive because she was wearing a skintight lounge dress. But then again, she’d just kicked Grant Ward’s ass in that dress, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Hi, Talia,” Tasha said, smiling. She reached down into the little purse she was carrying and pulled out a card. “I wanted to give you this. You know we’re superheroes, right?”

“Yeah!” Talia said, excitedly. Clint shifted from his spot to the right of the father; Rhodey was standing behind Tasha and Steve, and Sam had taken the left. The dad didn’t know it, but Darcy was standing behind him, taser in hand should he try to flee.

“Well, this is our phone number at Avengers Tower,” Tasha said, handing her a card. She glanced upward at the father too as she said her next words. “Any time you’re in trouble -- _any_ time -- you give us a call and we’ll be there, okay?”

“Or even if you just wanna get out of the house and hang out. Tony’s really good with math, he could help with your homework,” Rhodey said. He was also staring at the father, who’d started sweating.

“Bruce can help with science!” Darcy piped up from behind, and the father spun around to see the tiny little pseudo-Avenger, with her taser aimed right at him. “And you know, I’m of the firm opinion that all little girls and boys should take defense classes, so if you wanted, I bet Tasha and Steve could teach you some judo.”

“I don’t know judo,” Steve joked.

“ _I_ do,” Tasha said, smiling. The dad turned back toward her just in time to catch the tail end of it -- it was her scary smile again, one that warned the person in question that they were in her sights.

“So you need anything, you just let us know, okay, Talia?” Steve said. He smiled and stood up. “Look, they’re starting. Wonder how much money we raised?”

(It was, all told, just over a million dollars, which the Howard and Maria Stark Foundation was going to match. The St. Jude’s representative tearfully recounted how many cancer treatments that could provide; how much experimental research it could fund. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.)

 

**~~~~~~**

 

Tony threw a shitfit about being excluded, while Bruce fully understood. Thor simply glowered his way through the post-gala meeting about the topic. However, the incident served to point out that sometimes the villains weren’t superpowered -- sometimes they were normal people, and they lived in your own city.

Which was when Pepper, who had been watching silently up until that point, brought up how they could help. She was _brilliant_ , Pepper was, and she had contacts within the Fantastic Four, as well as knowing Spider-Man personally.

A month later, after a little girl from Brooklyn had come to hang out at the tower no less than four times, once covered in bruises, the superheroes of New York City announced an alliance, spearheaded by Black Widow and Captain America.

“No Child Left Alone is, yes, a pun on that darn No Child Left Behind thing,” Steve said, smiling for the cameras again, Captain America persona fully engaged. _All for a good cause._ “We may be superheroes, but sometimes our enemies _aren’t_ superpowered. Sometimes they live right here. Sometimes they’re your neighbors or friends. And no child should have to deal with that kind of abuse.”

Tasha took the stand next. “We’ve set up an official hotline and partnered with the Young Avengers, the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, Captain Marvel and her compatriot Ms. Marvel in New Jersey, and the X-Men, as well as the New York Police Department. If a minor calls that hotline, and they’re suffering abuse, it will be dealt with -- _swiftly_.” She stared directly into the camera. “No one should have to suffer through abuse from someone they love, but it’s a special kind of monster -- and not the kind we fight in the skies above New York, but the kind we have to fight right here in the streets, in our own _homes_ \-- to put a _child_ through that abuse. We, the people you’ve chosen to designate your heroes, as of today -- we say _enough_. Never again.”

“Are you suggesting that you will be at the beck and call of every minor in the greater New York area?” a reporter asked, incredulous.

“I am suggesting that if we’re going to be _called_ heroes,” Tasha fired back, “that we should _act_ like it. And it’s all and good to save New York City from aliens, but every person is _just as important_ as that, and it’s about time we started putting our money where our mouth is.”

Tony butted in slightly. “If you’d _actually bothered_ to read your press kits, you’d realize that the organization screens calls carefully and assesses whether the police need to be called or whether someone with a little more _oomph_ is required. This phone number isn’t an instant pass to getting an Avenger on your doorstep; we just want kids to know that they’re not alone.”

Tasha smiled and nodded. “That’s what we’re telling the youth of New York and New Jersey -- you’re not alone. Not anymore. Not while we’re on the clock.”

There was a moment of silence and then the press, usually so jaded, burst into thunderous applause.

“Not so monstrous now, are we?” Steve muttered to Tasha. She smiled and it was a real smile, one that lit up her whole face.

He didn’t think she’d ever truly forgive herself, but every child she saved -- she’d be that much closer to it. And if he could save his friend and a bunch of kids at the same time? Hell, he’d smile for a million photo ops. 


End file.
